alized that, you know. I think
he told you so, didn't he? He wasn't really sorry that I wouldn't marry
Ina Rose. By the way, she is engaged to Dick Guyes already, so there was
not much damage done in that direction. I told you it was nothing but a
game, didn't I? You didn't quite believe me, what?"

It came to her that he was talking to gain time, that he was trying to
muster strength to give the lie to the passion that had throbbed in the
holding of his arms, that for some reason he deemed it incumbent upon him
to mask his feelings and hide from her the misery that had driven Victor
in search of her.

She rose quietly and moved across the room till she stood beside him.
"Piers," she said, "tell me what is wrong!"

He stiffened at her approach, straightened himself, faced her.
"Avery," he said, "do you know, dear, it would be better if you went
straight back again? I hate to say it. It was so dear of you,
so--so--great of you to come. But--no, there's nothing wrong,--nothing
that is, that hasn't been wrong for ages. Fact is, I'm not fit to
speak to you, never have been; far less make love to you. And I was a
cur and a brute to do it. I've had a bit of a shake-up lately. It's
made me feel my responsibilities, see things as they are. I've got an
awful lot to see to just now. I'm going to work mighty hard. I mustn't
think of--other things."

He stopped. He was looking at her, looking at her, with the red fire of
passion kindling in his eyes, a gleam so fierce and so insistent that she
was forced to lower her own. It was as if his soul cried out to her all
that he restrained his lips from uttering.

He saw her instinctive avoidance of his gaze, and turned away from her,
leaning again upon the mantelpiece as if spent.

"I can't help it, Avery. I'm so dog-tired, and I can't sleep. I'm
horribly sorry, but I'm nothing but a brute-beast to-night.
Really--really--you had better go."

There was desperation in his voice. He bowed his head upon his arms, and
she saw that his hands were clenched.

But she could not leave him so. That inner urging that had impelled her
thither warned her to remain, even against her own judgment, even against
her will. The memory of Victor's fears came back to her. She could not
turn and go.

"My dear boy," she said, speaking very gently, "do you think I don't know
that you are miserable, lonely, wretched? That is why I am here!"

"God knows how lonely!" he whispered.

Her heart stirred w